


Between the Lines

by yuma (yuma_writes)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuma_writes/pseuds/yuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admiral Chris Pike reads a report and learns a bit more about Captain James T. Kirk at the same time. Pre-<i>Into the Darkness</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Word prompt: AMBIGUOUS
> 
> And yes, this was sitting in my hard drive for a while. Oops...

"...after a minor disagreement, the tribes of Wer-Ga and Wer-Gu have tentatively agreed to a truce, treaty pending a mediator to be sent by Starfleet Diplomat Service."

"A minor disagreement?" Chris Pike repeated archly as he raised his eyes from his PADD. He studied the image on his screen with a wary eye, wondering if maybe the image would somehow change. It didn't. His fingers still twitched towards the hidden drawer in his desk where a certain illicit bottle of Romulan ale lay.

"How _minor_ was minor, Captain?"

Unapologetic and completely failing to pull off innocent, Jim Kirk grinned back. Lightyears didn't distort the terabytes of transmission data. Distance wasn't able to soften the bruises and gray pallor on the captain's face, and the cocky smile Jim gave him didn't help. If anything, the toothy grimace only made everything look even more painful.

 _"The natives thought killing some Federation representatives would make them feel better about their six hundred year old war."_ Jim probed his own purpled cheek with a finger. He made a face; whether as a result of the injury or his recount of what Starfleet had estimated should have been a milk run, it wasn't clear.

_"I disagreed."_

Uh huh. Chris ran a finger along the edge of his PADD, its screen filled with a post-mission report so precisely written, he had to double-check the signature to make sure he wasn't reading Spock's by mistake.

A muscle in his lower back twinged. Chris shifted in his seat.

"I'm fine," Chris told Jim when he saw the captain lean forward. He gestured towards himself, "Nerve regeneration isn't a hundred percent pain free or—" He grimaced when his lower right foot spasmed hard enough to kick his desk, sending vibrations clawing up his shin. "Perfect," he finished. 

_"It's good to see you're doing better, sir,"_ Jim said sincerely. His grin had dialed down from the brash smile Chris remembered in a bar not long ago, to a warmer one Chris still marveled over, one he wondered if he'd inherited from George Kirk. Months on the _Enterprise_ had tempered Jim, smoothed out the jagged edges of long-bred hurt and self-destructiveness. It made each communiqué between them a lure for Chris like the ancient sailors' fabled sirens: what would he rediscover of James T. Kirk today?

There were days though…

"I'd do better," Chris griped half-heartedly, "if there were less medical reports on yet another 'minor disagreement'." He glowered at Jim. The smile didn't waver because damn it, Chris' glares are less effective when one person’s on a starship and the other is stuck on Earth.

 _"Starfleet sends their shining crown piece to negotiate. I negotiated!"_ Jim shrugged. He made a face and massaged his right shoulder joint with a thumb. He offered a self-deprecating grin that they both know wouldn't fool anyone. _"I never did well in Diplomacy."_

"You tested out of Basic Arbitrations and I signed off on you skipping to Year Three," Chris reminded him. "You tried to convince me to fast track you to Year Four as well."

_"I still say I should have gotten credit for my charm with the ladies."_

"I've seen your 'charm', Jim. It was drooling and slobbering on a bar floor."

_"You caught me on a bad day."_

Thank God for that, Chris thought fervently. A chance encounter that later saved a planet from a crazed Romulan; he easily could have taken another path, turned a different corner and never run into Jim. He cleared his throat to shake off the prickly sensation thrumming under his skin. Damn nerve regeneration. 

"...negotiations were unfortunately detained due to the failure to have all parties present. Fortunately, intervention provided the necessary time to allow all parties to be represented in the summit," Chris continued reading out loud. 

Chris pursed his lips. He raised his chin and considered the discolored skin he could see in the small screen.

"Detained?" Chris repeated flatly. " _How_ detained?"

Jim raised his hands, until he realized that gesture revealed the faint scarring on his palms, the unmistakable sheen of shiny, regenerated skin on his fingertips. He scratched a spot under his jaw.

Chris bit back a smirk when Jim rocked side to side in a fidget.

_"Held hostage over a lava pit detained."_

"How the hell did that happen?" Chris scanned the report, but it didn't reveal anything else.

 _"We followed the protocols,"_ Jim defended. _"We said greetings, did all the cultural salutations Spock researched, then they tried to take three of my security team and Bones."_

"And the 'intervention'?"

_"I might have suggested that having a Starfleet Captain would hold as much if not more value than four hostages."_

Christ. Dropping his forehead to a hand, Chris massaged a spot between his eyes. 

Without looking up, Chris spoke up. "So when you sent me the message that the treaty proceedings had 'hit a snag', what you really meant was that you were kidnapped, attacked, and held over a lava pit before you managed to broker an agreement?"

_"…kind of in a different order, sir, but basically yes. Sounds about right."_

"Is my ship even still flying?" Chris was only half joking when he asked. 

_"Scotty might not agree, but she's still flying."_ Jim waggled his eyebrows, only doing so because it was their semi-regular unofficial comms they shared back and forth since the _Enterprise_ sailed off with the youngest captain in Starfleet's history.

_"To be fair, sir. She was secondhand when you gave her to me."_

"I had her for, what, a day?" Chris grumbled.

 _"Some were captain for just twelve minutes."_ Jim's voice, abruptly somber, was remarkably loud in his office. _"I've been told that doesn't make it any less significant."_

Chris' mouth quirked at the corner. "So I've been told, too," he murmured. Just when he thinks he can't be surprised any more, there is Jim Kirk. He coughed into a fist and made a show of picking up his PADD.

"Commander Spock has submitted a recommendation that policy should be implemented that would disallow the transportation of more than two senior officers off the Bridge at any time. I promised to give his recommendation my full consideration before rejecting it." Chris paused and narrowed his eyes.

"It's a good recommendation, you know."

_"Probably."_

" _Probably_? A ship can't run without two of its most senior ranking officers."

 _"And I can't send any one of my crew down to do something I can't do myself."_ Jim's mouth pressed thin. _"Starfleet's lost enough, don't you think?"_ His eyes slid away.

Ah. Chris sank back into his seat. 

"We both know there's no such thing as zero causalities."

Jim shrugged. _"But it isn't a bad thing to strive for, is it?"_

"No. But it's unrealistic." Chris leaned forward to the screen. 

"You have to prepare for the possibility. Otherwise, you're never coming out feeling like you've done something right." Chris narrowed his eyes at Jim. "Not everything can be solved by doing it yourself."

Then again, Jim was tasked by Spock (the other Spock; he still have trouble wrapping his head around that) to seize control of the _Enterprise_ , defeat Nero, and reclaim his Captaincy of the _Enterprise_. He was told he was the only one who could do it, and how contrary must that have been after a lifetime being told to believe the opposite?

"And I thought time-traveling Romulans were stressful," Chris muttered.

Jim flashed him a grin that was all teeth with little humor. Chris thought it summed up most of Jim's life. 

It was about time someone called him on it. 

"You know you're allowed to make mistakes." Chris held up the PADD. "You know you can't be the only one doing everything."

That smile wavered. Jim covered the lapse with a non-committal shrug.

Sighing mentally, Chris made a show of squinting at the report.

"After lengthy discussion with both parties, a middle ground was agreed upon: to continue the treaty process. I do, however, disagree with Commander Spock's method. I concur that further consultation may be necessary before any future treaty negotiations."

Chris pursed his lips. He reviewed the words in his head, turned them around and around like they were puzzle pieces.

"Spock went after you, didn't he?"

Jim's scowl said it all. _"He was supposed to stay and monitor the treaty."_

"Uh huh."

 _"He shouldn't have gone after me,"_ Jim insisted.

"Like you shouldn't have traded yourself for the hostages?" countered Chris.

_"As captain, it's my job to see to the safety of my crew and my ship."_

"I know. I _was_ a captain for a few years before I earned that extra pip, you know," Chris said dryly. He sobered. "But a ship and a crew need a captain in order to stay safe."

Something flickered across Jim's face, so quick, Chris at first thought it was their transmission. But then he reviewed his words and groaned. He took a steadying breath.

"Being captain doesn't always mean sacrifice, Jim." It didn't mean staying on a collision course with an enemy ship. "You, of all people, on your ship, are not expendable."

_"Neither are any of my crew."_

Chris smiled tightly. "Agreed. But you have to remember: a captain is part of a crew. Not apart from one. Stop assuming the only solution is throwing yourself to the wolves."

_"…there are a lot of wolves, Admiral."_

And they weren't just in space, Chris thought darkly. Wolves were scratching at his door, wolves demanded reports from Jim twice a week; unheard of for any captain. 

But then, James T. Kirk wasn't any captain. His success was slowly becoming his albatross. 

_"Admiral?"_

Lifting his head up, Chris could easily read the furrow, the cloudy blue eyes, the mouth set in a neutral expression in a wary yet expectant look.

Chris cleared his throat, "One of these days," he said gruffly, "I'm going to get up there and have you report to me in person." Chris lifted up his PADD in mock threat. 

Jim quirked an eyebrow that made Chris wonder if he was taking lessons from Spock (either one. Take your pick.) 

_"Twice a week too?"_

Chris rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I'm your commanding officer, not your nanny. I'm not there to hold your hand."

_"Too bad."_

It didn't sound like Jim had intended for that to come out. And when Jim launched into some funny thing his engineer did with a Jeffery tube and some gelatin (he was glad this was an unofficial communiqué, otherwise he was obligated to do something), Chris found himself wondering if anyone else had offered to share 'unofficial' transmissions with him out there in the void of space; did anyone read Jim's reports, and read between the lines?

Chris coughed and Jim's story trailed off. "That doesn't mean you're getting away from comming me twice a week either." He folded his arms and tried to look like the intimidating admiral he should be. "In case of any more _minor disagreements_ that I need to know about, son."

Something flickered again across Jim's face. Chris couldn't blame it on the transmission and from the way Jim's eyes slid away, he knew he couldn't either.

Harrumphing seemed to spare them both the emotions neither felt comfortable to say out loud; acknowledging it only highlighted what they both lacked. Chris sank deeper into his seat and twisted into a scowl he knew first years quaked under. 

"Brat," Chris grumbled.

The laugh that burst out made them both grin. Chris glowered at Jim, but it didn't seem to fool the young captain.

Running a hand through his hair, Chris went on. "I'm going to grow gray before my time."

 _"Oh, don't blame me for that,"_ chuckled Jim. _"For once, that's not my fault."_

"Don't make me go up there, young man." Chris threatened half-heartedly. "I'll show you a thing or two."

Jim's eyebrows went up and his mouth broadens to something of delight.

_"Actually, I'll be looking forward to it, sir."_

**Author's Note:**

> Much love, gratitude, and kudos to Brate (for the prompt), Val and Penfold (for the read) and Emily (for her red beta pen). I may write the fic but these guys are what _makes_ the fic. Thank you!
> 
> \-----------------------  
> Feedback is like cookies. I _like_ cookies! LOL.


End file.
